Hogan Takes Charge, Somewhat
by willwrite4fics
Summary: Response to the Hogan's Heroes Big Bang Challenge Hogan has arrived and been put in charge as the ranking officer, but will be be able to win over the most suspicious of POWs? (Note: Carter has not arrived)
1. Chapter 1

My entry to the Hogan's Heroes Big Bang challenge.

Hogan has arrived to Stalag 13 and although he is the officer in charge of the stalag's POW population, that doesn't mean quite as much to every POW as he might expect. Please enjoy, and review if you like it, please. All chapter will be posted tonight, in response to the challenge.

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Stalag 13, Germany

The wind swept through the barracks buildings in short gusts. Various POWs wandering the compound would huddle in whatever clothing they had, cursing against the bitter cold. Even the guards shivered in their layers of wool.

Hogan stood against the barracks' wall and watched the compound. He was beginning to feel out the various men of Barracks Two, taking their measure and finding that they were a great deal more than most officers would have assumed. Sergeant Kinchloe was the obvious surprise. The quiet sergeant commanded a great deal of respect among the other prisoners, completely atypical with mixed race groups in any military. Certainly there were a few men who showed contempt but for the most part, the POWs seemed to be relaxed about all of it.

A loud spate of French curses made him glance over to see the tiny LeBeau stomping away from a group of Americans who had been teasing him. It sounded like light-hearted America versus France arguing, and Hogan didn't feel any need to get involved.

His eyes came to rest on the troublesome English corporal and he straightened up slightly as he saw some sort of confrontation going on with one of the nastier guards. Trying to pacify the guard didn't seem to be working for Newkirk and he almost cringed at a louder shout. Hogan watched his head tilt down as he apparently wheedled his way out of whatever issue the guard had. The smaller corporal looked as if he were on the verge of fleeing at any moment, but probably was afraid of the consequences of running in the compound.

Hogan checked the rest of the compound but no one else seemed to be interested in what was happening. While Newkirk left no doubt of his disdain for officers in general, Hogan would not allow the young man to be abused by a guard without a protest. While Kinchloe, LeBeau and Olson seemed to be made of sterner stuff, Hogan wasn't sure he would be able to count on anything from the meek? Englishman.

Before he made half a dozen steps into the compound, the guard shoved Newkirk sharply, but then turned and left without more than a parting insult. Newkirk had staggered but still bobbed his head subserviently at the German before walking backwards a few steps.

Hogan paused, relieved that at least he hadn't been harmed. Then his gaze sharpened. Newkirk had twisted on his heel, his entire body posture changing abruptly from fearful nervousness to a cocky strut. He shook his left arm in an odd manner before flicking something into his palm from thin air. Hogan watched him examine whatever it was before tucking it into a pocket out of sight. The air of competent ease was so at odds with the body language of moments before that Hogan blinked. A pair of guards came around the end of a building into view and Newkirk shied away, instantly assuming the same mousy nervous mien all over again. He smiled and ducked his head at them, twisting to watch them go by as if one might make a grab for him at any moment.

As they passed the harmless English POW, Hogan caught the barest glimpse of Newkirk's expression. For just one instant, there was naked hatred and cunning and then it was gone just as quickly. Hogan found himself staring into intensely piercing eyes as Newkirk spotted him.

Hogan half-expected to see the return of the cringing act, but Newkirk gave him a slight nod of acknowledgment, wary but cocky. He realized the corporal had already figured out that Hogan had just seen through the little act and had decided within those fractions of a second that it didn't matter. His casual dismissal of Hogan as any threat did rankle just a little bit but the officer hide any reaction, simply returning a nod and flicking his gaze away, pretending to see nothing of note.

He needed to do some serious reevaluating. If there was one conman this good in the stalag, who knew what other talents there were to be exploited in his plans to stymie the Germans?

Newkirk was far out of sight and Hogan had wandered across over half of the compound before it occurred to him that Newkirk might just have known Hogan was watching the entire time. He stopped dead in his tracks to look behind himself but the Englishman was gone. Hogan felt slightly uneasy. After all, no conman wanted to feel as if he was being played as a mark by another.

Hogan walked through the compound slowly with Kinchloe. "So you're saying he's the one I have to win over? Why? He's a corporal. He's not even American." His eyes searched out one particular figure in blue and watched as the slender young man chatted with a group of other prisoners. "He doesn't look like he could threaten me. Heck, a strong wind could probably knock him down."

Kinchloe snorted softly. "Newkirk is tougher than he looks. Anything that knocks him over has to watch it because he'll get right back up. But it's not a physical threat, sir. He has a low opinion on officers in general and any officer who thinks he's going to run this camp and order the men around in particular."

"He's still just a corporal." Hogan was still watching the little group as they peered at Newkirk's hands and laughed. Apparently one of the guards was interested as well and slowly wandered closer.

"In a stalag, sir, rank doesn't always matter as much. Newkirk has been here longer than anyone else. And... he looks out for everyone. I don't know many guys that he hasn't gotten out of trouble with the goons." Kinch's voice got quiet. "I'm just saying, don't make him an enemy or you won't ever get things off the ground."

The English corporal was now showing some sort of cards to the guard too. "Okay, so I'll make friends." Hogan looked at Kinch closer. "Let me guess, he's saved your hide before too?"

"More than once." Kinch fidgeted nervously. "He's a good man, sir." Suddenly a little smile crossed his face. "That's LeBeau with him there now. The short Frenchman." He jerked his chin to indicate the newest man to join the group. "He's a chef, hot tempered as heck, but another good man. He'll jump up to defend his friends in a heartbeat, no matter how big the enemy is."

Hogan watched and raised an eyebrow. "You'd have to put the two of them together to make one decent sized guy, Kinch."

"Yeah well. Newkirk doesn't wear that heavy coat all the time because he's carrying a lot of natural padding. He's thin as a rail." Kinch took a breath and followed along as Hogan began walking again. "Half the time he can't eat anymore. He's so underweight, he can't stay warm for anything. Of course, God forbid someone try to help him. Touchy Englishman doesn't like to accept any help, doesn't matter how many times he's helped a guy out himself." Kinch glanced around. "LeBeau tries to keep him fed with what we can scrounge but it's just not enough. Everyone is losing weight, but.. Peter didn't have any to spare to begin with."

"I'm trying to work on the commandant about the rations already." Hogan looked at the figure again. "Maybe I can get some extra and give them to him."

"Pfft." The disparaging noise from Kinch was surprising. "Sorry, but you can't hand extra food to him. He'll just divvy it up among his friends. That's if he doesn't refuse outright, especially coming from you, sir. Nothing personal, but you are the only officer here."

"So, not only do you want me to lay low, make sure I don't offend him, try to get him better food but I've got to trick him into taking it?" Hogan shook his head. "You don't ask much."

"Don't worry, when I think of some difficult things to ask for, you'll be the first to know." Kinch grinned at the wry look. "Hey, this sort of stuff is why you get paid the big bucks."

"I think I'd rather lose a pay grade."

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End Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

I forgot to put in the AN that this would be early enough that Carter has not arrived yet, sorry Carter fans!

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CHAPTER 2

In the early morning, Hogan was up and stoking the potbelly stove in the main room of the barracks as the men slowly got up and dressed for roll call. The barracks guard would arrive any minute so there was a bit of a scramble as men got their clothing on. The colonel turned in time to see Newkirk drawing his uniform sweater on. The man was skin and bones. Even across the room he could see him shivering already.

"Excuse me, Colonel." The short Frenchman politely nudged him aside to get a battered coffeepot onto the top of the stove. "I apologize, but no one will be happy if there is no coffee when we get back inside."

"Sorry, didn't mean to impede progress. Thank you for making the coffee, Corporal LeBeau." Hogan stepped back. "Where do you get your supply?"

"Mostly Red Cross packages." LeBeau bustled about then went to grab his own coat and scarf. "We keep the coffee all together, it's just easier than each guy trying to make his own."

"Makes sense." Hogan noted that even if LeBeau was tiny compared to all the other men, he still looked strong enough. His head barely reached Hogan's shoulder though. "I heard you cooked too. I'm trying to get some better rations. I know there's really not enough to go around right now."

LeBeau started to speak up but a heavily accented voice cut in. "Well, it's good fer you to notice that. There's never enough food but we do manage, don't we boys?" Newkirk was giving Hogan a dark look. "No one here goes 'ungry less we all do."

"I wasn't implying anything other..." Hogan trailed off as the man had already turned aside to begin chastising another prisoner who'd crawled back into his bunk. He shut up and listened as Newkirk's combination of badgering and cajoling got the tired looking young man onto his feet.

Before he could catch Newkirk's attention to try to clarify his comments, the barrack's door banged open and the guard began bellowing at them all in German and broken English. Hogan headed towards the doorway but paused when the guard zeroed in on the smaller LeBeau to wave his rifle while shouting.

Just as Hogan started to try to make his way over, he saw Newkirk push his way towards the door himself, his shoulder knocking LeBeau out of his way carelessly. He then bumped into the guard. "Sorry, Fritz.. why're you always in me way, go on, raus, raus!" The Cockney accent didn't mesh well with German words. "Schnell Fritz..." Newkirk mimicked the guard's own words and waved his arms about in a mockery.

Even Hogan knew it was a poor idea for a joke. Apparently the guard felt the same and used the butt of the rifle to knock the Englishman towards the door with a sharp thump in his ribcage. "Roll call! Raus, Englander!"

"Hey now, I'm goin! Don't be all shovin' me!" Newkirk snapped at the guard while moving along. He drew his coat further around himself as he stepped through the door, pushing LeBeau ahead of him now.

Hogan blinked as he went through the door himself. Somehow in the mass of confusion caused by Newkirk's antics, almost all the men had made it outside. He walked down the line to take his place at the end. Newkirk was standing next to him, yelling at the guards and barking laughter as some of the others tried to mess up the count by calling out numbers in German.

"Newkirk! Quiet down." Hogan raised his voice slightly. "Quiet down, men!" Most of the noise stopped and he tucked his hands deeper into his pockets. The last thing they needed was one man getting the whole group into trouble. He'd have to chat with him about encouraging behavior that might call punishment down on the whole barracks.

"Right-o sir." Newkirk eyed him sideways with a bit of sour amusement. "Wouldn't want to make any ruckus for the Germans, then."

"I said... quiet." Hogan glared at the younger man and watched him smirk back. The American colonel was not used to having direct orders mocked by anyone. Most of the RAF he'd served with were extremely good about protocol. Of course, he'd dealt mostly with fellow officers. When he gave a harsh look, generally the man realized he was in trouble.

He glanced aside at the man a few more times. He couldn't seem to stand still, rocking back and forth while huddling inside the greatcoat. When he put his hands up to tug the lapels higher up around his ears, Hogan could see his arms shaking violently with cold. Even though Hogan only wore a flight jacket, he wasn't feeling the chill that badly. He looked at LeBeau next to Newkirk and saw him stamping his feet but not shaking with cold like his friend. A quick survey confirmed that Kinch was right, the Englishman was feeling the cold worse than anyone else.

By the time Klink had come out to receive the report, Hogan was growing alarmed. Newkirk had stopped moving around and now stood still except for the violent shaking. He'd wrapped both arms around himself and had his eyes closed as he waited. "Hang in there, Newkirk."

The blue eyes opened to glare at him. "I'm fine." Touchy was right. Hogan shut up and simply hoped that they would be dismissed quickly.

To Hogan's frustration, Klink had some sort of discussion with the barracks' guards before he finally dismissed them. Then the barrack's guard had to come back to them to dismiss the prisoners as well. The men all stumbled their way inside, many voicing complaints on the way.

Inside the hut, the stove had brought the temperatures up slightly and everyone settled around it trying to warm up. Hogan was given a seat next to the stove and he warmed his hands up while surreptitiously checking to see where everyone ended up. He wasn't surprised when the little Frenchman ended up next to the stove as well, but watched Newkirk settle in at the outside ring next to Kinch on a lower bunk. The man was shuddering with cold but shook his head when Kinchloe spoke to him, obviously trying to pretend that he was still 'fine'.

Hogan leaned back in the chair and then looked around the crowded room before 'spotting' Kinch in the back. He stood up awkwardly and then waved at a surprised Newkirk. "Hey, sorry, Newkirk, can you swap seats with me, I need to talk to Kinch... just for a couple minutes? Thanks." Without waiting for a reply, he began edging between people to make his way back.

To his relief, Newkirk simply looked confused and nodded back. "Sure." He stumbled a few times before he made it up to Hogan's abandoned seat. Hands reached out on the way, steadying him from falling. Once he was settled into the chair, he began chatting with LeBeau and some of the others.

Hogan tugged his jacket closer around himself as he took a seat on the edge of the bunk next to Kinchloe. After a moment, Kinch raised an eyebrow. "Well? What was it you wanted, sir?"

"Hmm?" Hogan looked over. "Oh, I wanted to get Newkirk next to the stove. He was half-frozen."

Kinch furrowed his brow looking over to Newkirk and back to Hogan again. "But..." His expression cleared. "Well now, that was as slick a con as I've seen."

"After what you said, I doubt he would have just let me put him there because he was cold." Kinch nodded and Hogan continued. "You can call it, Operation Win Friends if you want."

"That was a good first round, and I'd definitely say you won it outright." Kinch smiled. "I think you may work out just fine after all."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Later on I'm going to go try to work the same kind of subtle magic on Klink. Rations are going to have to improve, it's too cold for anyone to survive on so little." Hogan leaned back, wrapping his hands around one knee. He looked at Kinchloe with curiosity. "So since I'm supposed to be talking to you, why are you defending him so much?"

"Because he's my friend." Kinch folded his hands together and looked at them. "Sir, I was the first black POW in this camp. You have no idea how it was when I got here. Everyone was either scared of me or hated me. Even the other prisoners didn't know how to deal with me." He gave Hogan a little half smile. "You may have noticed, I'm not a small person either."

"I did seem to pick up something about that, about when I had to look up to see your face." Hogan nodded for Kinch to continue.

"Well, the first three days I was here, this one scrawny English dude made it his purpose in life to make me miserable. Followed me around and made sniping comments to me, walked in front of me to make me have to stop dead to keep from stepping on him... just a general nuisance. Finally after three days of harassment, he stopped right in front of me and just started insulting me with everything he had. I finally had had it, you know? This little twerp pushed my buttons too long and I just let him have it. Punched him right in the eye and knocked him flying onto his ass in the snow."

"Well, that certainly sounds like a friendship started in love." Hogan quieted as Kinch shook his head.

"Well, yeah. But there we were, me standing there looking at him and waiting for a mob to form up and come after me... him sitting on the ground looking at me. Then suddenly he gets this huge grin and waves at all the other guys gathered up and says 'See? He ain't no monster! He only 'it me the one time!' and people start laughing about it. Next thing I know, he's got an arm up around my shoulders and he's going at it to someone else about what a good bloke I must be, since the other guy tried to beat him up way more when he met him." Kinch laughed softly. "He had a black eye for two weeks. All because he wanted to prove that the big scary black man wasn't any different from any of the rest of them." He sobered. "He put himself on the line, just to make friends for me. Because that's what Peter does."

Hogan thought it over. He watched the Englishman telling a story that involved a lot of arm waving to his friends over by the stove. From what he could tell, he had stopped the worst of his shivering. "So he thinks his job is to take care of everyone in the camp. He's not going to give me his position very easily."

Kinch coughed and leaned closer. "He's not going to give you that position... ever. I would advise you to try to get him to trust that you'll take care of the men yourself and let him continue to do his own version at the same time. He doesn't want to be in charge. He just wants his friends to be as safe as possible. You show that you're going to think of the men first, and he'll come around."

"Thanks Kinch. I'm really glad to have you on my side."

Kinch raised an eyebrow again. "Who says I'm on your side? That implies I think you're opposing Newkirk. You're not enemies. One thing we all have to remember here in Stalag 13 is that the Germans are the enemy. Not fellow prisoners."

"You're right, of course." Hogan stood up and straightened his jacket. "Speaking of enemies... I should go now and try to catch our commandant in a good mood. I'll see you later." He headed for the door, speaking quietly to various men on the way. He tried to open and shut the door as quickly as possible to avoid letting in too much cold air.

Walking across the compound, he thought about how complex this entire thing was turning out to be. From the men he'd met so far, he thought that he would have the cream of the crop once things smoothed out. He thought back to the smirk of a reply to his first order to Newkirk and sighed. "IF things smooth out..."

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end chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Now it's time for Hogan to try to negotiate with Klink for the first time! How do you think he'll do?

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CHAPTER 3

Hogan was attempting to keep calm and sound reasonable in Klink's office. "But Kommandant, the rations that we're issued are not enough. The men are all losing weight and with the cold weather, they need more food."

Klink waved a hand in the air vaguely, not even looking up from his paperwork. "I have no time for your complaints, Colonel Hogan. The prisoners are fed adequately." His voice was beginning to sound annoyed.

Hogan pressed anyway. "Adequately for what conditions? The weather is so bad right now that I'm going to have men with frostbite." He tried another tactic. "Your guards are getting plenty to eat, so I know that you have access to plenty of foodstuffs."

Klink glared up at him now. "My guards have much more work to do. Not only do they have to guard all of you prisoners, but they also have to do manual labor. I suppose that you think all the roads are cleared by themselves?" He picked up a page to wave at Hogan. "Do you see this? I have to juggle the schedules to have guards available for everything and you are here complaining that your men don't get enough to eat! They aren't doing anything."

Hogan's thoughts sped along ahead of him. Requesting extra rations wasn't going to work. It rankled Hogan's pride to beg for anything and from the reactions he was getting, begging wasn't going to work with this German officer. Maybe though, he could change the kommandant's attitude in other ways. "Why do the guards have to clear the roads?"

Klink gave him a pitying look now. "Hogan, perhaps you do not understand how the real world works." He stood up and went to the map on his wall. "These roads are the only access the camp has to the outside world. If we can't get trucks to the main road, we can't get supplies in from town. The only way to clear the roads out here is to shovel the snow. How else would the roads be cleared?" He tossed his hands in the air. "Half of my guards will be putting in hours doing road clearing instead of guarding prisoners. That means longer hours for the guards." He huffed and returned to his desk to sit and sort through the papers again. "Running a Luft stalag is a lot of work and not every person is as capable as I am."

Hogan was barely paying attention as Klink continued to extoll all of his personal abilities at length. Maybe this was an opportunity if he could work the German into wanting something from his prisoners. Just offering the work-for-food would be a poor tactic though. Doing that could lead to all food being taken away in order to gain work details. Would Klink starve his prisoners? He didn't seem to be that sort of officer, but Hogan couldn't very well risk his men to find out either. He would have to be careful in this.

"Well if you don't have enough guards to do it, surely there is another labor force available to you. There's plenty of able-bodied men around." Hogan left off suddenly. What if Klink decided to order them to work? They were not supposed to be used as a labor force for war efforts but shoveling roads might not be seen as a war effort.

Klink was scoffing. "Hogan, all of the available able-bodied men are in the Army, fighting for the Third Reich." He continued to elaborate on all of the trials that the local populace endured during the war.

Hogan realized that Klink was not picking up on the hints. He would risk being more obvious. It was essential for the kommandant to be the one asking for a work party. Asking… not ordering. He inhaled slowly. If he could get the kommandant used to asking for work parties, then he could get him used to giving concessions in return for the labor provided and those concessions could keep the POWs alive and relatively healthy through the harsh winter.

Turning around with what he hoped was a convincing look of outrage. "I hope that you're not suggesting my men volunteer for that work!" He saw the idea take root in Klink's mind as the man's face grew gleeful. He shut down that hope instantly. "The Geneva Convention is quite clear that prisoners cannot be used as work crews in war time!" Klink's face fell at that false declaration and Hogan breathed slightly easier. "If you think that I'd volunteer the men for that, well, you'd have to offer a lot more than your sincere thanks, that's for sure!" He huffed slightly as he turned slightly aside.

Klink had both hands up close to his chest and a desperate expression. "But Hogan..." He corrected himself. "Colonel Hogan… it.. it would be helping your men because we would be able to more easily get supplies in. Supplies that feed them as well as us." He smiled and it looked far more toothy than friendly. "It would benefit all of _us_. Together. Surely that would be reason enough to volunteer just some of your men. Just a few?"

Hogan tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling for a moment. "I don't know, Kommandant… it's asking an awful lot for men that are on the verge of starvation and freezing. I mean..." He wandered around the edge of the large ornate desk. "They could hardly do hard labor on just a slice of bread and a cup of coffee. By rights, they should be given more food than that already and here… here you're asking them to shovel out roads!" He shook his head while waving his hands about. "I don't know why I'm even discussing this!"

"But but, Colonel..." Klink's smile was firmly in place as he wheedled. Hogan was encouraged beyond what he'd hoped by the officer's pleading. "Colonel Hogan, I'm sure that your men on the work party could have..." he seemed to be counting in his head. "… potato soup… for the evening meal, perhaps. On the days that they work, only."

Hogan turned his cap around his hands, trying to look indecisive. "The work might keep them warm, after all." He paced back to Klink's desk to look at him. "They need the exercise. It'll do them good to get out and do some work. It will give them some pride." He motioned to Klink's paperwork. "And, it will ease the load on the guards so they won't be more likely to mistreat any of the prisoners."

Klink nodded encouragingly. "Yes, of course. So it's settled then?" He sounded incredibly eager.

That eagerness made Hogan pause. "Well… I don't know. Having just the work crew be fed extra rations would make for a lot of dissension in the ranks. Restless prisoners will be more likely to attempt escapes and in this weather that could be fatal… maybe I should just not advise for this at all."

Klink stepped forward. In his eagerness to 'win' in this battle of wills, he'd forgotten his refusals to increase rations entirely. "Soup for the evening meal… for all of the prisoners." He added quickly. "Only on the days that you supply me with a work detail, of course."

Making a production over the decision, Hogan rather gleefully congratulated himself on working the officer into requesting the POWs for a work party. "I suppose…" He sighed. "I don't know how I let you talk me into this, but okay. I'll gather up some volunteers for snow shoveling."

Klink beamed smugly. He did sober up quickly and point a finger at Hogan. "But there had better not be any escape attempts, I'm warning you. I have never had an escape from my stalag here and I will hold you personally accountable for your men!"

Hogan blinked. He'd honestly forgotten about the idea of escaping. In the deep German winter, without proper supplies and heavy clothing, no one would survive to make it far. "Well of course not, not with your guards watching over us! You've trained the best guards in Germany… eagle eyes…" He stopped, hoping he wasn't over-doing the praise. Hogan needed to go step-by-baby-step. He had to lead Klink slowly to where he needed him.

"Well if there was any escape attempts the punishment would be most severe!" Klink began to waffle.

Now Hogan decided to try to hook his fish. "Of course, you can just have your guards do the shoveling if you don't think that you can keep a few POWs under guard." He sighed and then smiled absently. "I'm sure that the prisoners can find other places to dig. Tunnel digging is good exercise."

That set the hook properly. Klink rushed to accept the offer. "Well considering the request, I suppose that using prisoner labor would be efficient." Turning to the door, Klink spoke to Helga, asking her to bring in Schultz. "The sergeant of the guard will chose the best guards and issue the tools. I will hold you personally responsible for the behavior of your men, Hogan. My guards will have orders to shoot if any prisoner attempts to escape."

Klink's cautioning words did give Hogan pause. He didn't want to risk men's lives for a possible scheme. He firmed up his resolve. He would be clear in his orders and if the schemes failed, he would probably be burying men anyway with the deep cold that was coming. At the very least, the exercise might actually warm the men and it couldn't be terribly difficult to clear some of the roadway.

He headed back to the barracks to form up a work party. Klink was already discussing which sections of the roads were cleared and which had priority with Schultz. Hogan had half an hour to have his men ready to be escorted out to the road site to begin work.

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End chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Hogan has unlocked the first achievement of "wrangle the Germans" but does he realize the bigger task will be on his own side?

* * *

CHAPTER 4

Things were not going quite as smoothly as Hogan had originally envisioned. There had been instant objections to his announcement.

"You must be around the bend if you think we're 'elping the bloody Germans!" As he might have predicted, Newkirk was the most vocal.

LeBeau agreed, standing half behind Newkirk as he added in a few French oaths. "I am no collaborator! Pah!" Olson nodded in agreement as he glowered. Even Kinch seemed to have lost faith in the new commanding officer.

Hogan straightened himself up to his full height. "I don't expect anyone to be happy about it, but you're going out on a work party. And there's no escapes, understand?" He got a handful of protests. "The weather would kill anyone foolish enough to try running off. We have a huge snowstorm coming in two days, remember?" His inner doubts flared up before he began to explain. What if Klink backed down on the promised ration increase? What if the kommandant only used a work party once and then figured out that he could indeed order enlisted Allied prisoners to do hard labor? At this point, he wasn't actually certain that any of this would end up working. If it didn't work, the men would lose even the small amount of faith he'd built up. "As your commanding officer, I am issuing a direct order for this." He sent a disparaging frown to Newkirk. "If you're concerned about how it looks, then you can blame me for ordering you to do it." He cringed inside considering how hard he had been working to gain the trust of the most wary of POWs.

He turned on his heel, heading out through the barracks door. "I expect every man in this barracks to be outside lined up in ten minutes." He flipped his crush cap on and shut the door behind himself firmly. Stalking out into the snow covered compound, he wrapped his arms around his waist and paced a bit. If this worked, the men would be able to enjoy better rations. If it didn't, they would only have put in a couple days of work. After a few minutes, the bulky form of the Sergeant of the Guard appeared, leading a small group of guards. They were all bundled up in their uniform coats with rifles shouldered. The rifles definitely brought some doubt into things. Hogan looked up at Schultz. "Do you really expect to be shooting the volunteer workforce?"

"Nein." Schultz sighed and tilted his head a little. "But then, we cannot allow them to escape either. If they know that they might get shot, maybe they will not try. But you will tell them not to escape also, ja?"

"Don't worry, I did." Hogan spared a little bit of a smile for the guard to reassure him. "I'm sure that they'll work very hard."

As the minutes ticked by, Hogan suddenly began to worry that no one would come out. If the whole barracks disobeyed a direct order, what would he do? What could he do? He fought the urge to look at his watch, trying to stand casually and look as if he were completely confident.

What if no one came out?

Although it seemed as if hours passed, the door opened up and men began trickling out right at the nine minute mark. Hogan could begin to breathe again and struggled to keep his nonchalant expression in place.

Kinch had been the first out, giving Hogan a small reassuring nod. Hogan relaxed even more at that. The rest of the men shuffled out with varying expressions ranging from worry and confusion to outright anger. Olson practically stomped out to elbow his way next to Kinch. There was a few seconds before LeBeau came out to slip into line beside Olson, muttering what Hogan would bet were truly vicious French curses.

Hogan's eyes flicked over the assembled group and found one man missing. Just as he started towards the barracks, Newkirk trudged out with his eyes on the ground to take the spot by LeBeau who scooted over to make room and quieted finally.

Taking a breath in, Hogan started to speak but was overridden by Schultz's protest. "Nein… not the Englander. Bad enough to take the Cockroach but letting both of the troublemakers out? Nein. This is a bad idea, Colonel Hogan."

Surprisingly, Newkirk looked annoyed at the idea that he wouldn't be allowed on the work detail now. "Oi! If the rest of the barracks gets to go, then I get to go too!" He shifted closer to LeBeau and Hogan realized why the man was objecting now. "Besides, Colonel Hogan ordered the whole barracks to fall out so you 'ave to deal with 'im."

Before Schultz could protest, Hogan overrode him. "If Corporal Newkirk can't go on the work detail, then none of the prisoners are going on the work detail." He eyed the sullen looking Cockney who was now struggling between his options, obviously not wanting to go along with anything Hogan suggested but at the same time, he certainly didn't want the Germans to get their way either. Hogan turned to Schultz. "Which is it, Sergeant Schultz?"

Grumbling in German, Schultz tossed a hand up in the air. "If he escapes I will not go find him in the snow!" He shook a finger in Newkirk's direction making him smirk. "No monkey business! You behave or you will freeze to death." Turning on the much smaller LeBeau, Schultz scolded at him as well. "You too! No monkey business!" LeBeau made a face at him and responded with emphatic French.

The group was loaded into one of the old trucks, two guards sitting at the very back to watch over them. Hogan, with his more privileged officer status ended up in the front seat between Schultz who drove and another guard who seemed to be as sullen over the entire deal as Newkirk did. They didn't go very far, as the guards hadn't cleared very much of the roadways.

It wasn't long before there was a line of men shoveling across the road. Hogan kept watch at first. He let Schultz arrange the men, finding the big guard was not stupid in the least. Kinch was the one wading out the furthest while Newkirk was ordered to stay closer. LeBeau got to be the last man in line. Hogan privately doubted that the tiny Frenchman would be able to keep up. He bent to the work though, throwing the heavy snow with a will and moving across the roadway nearly as quickly as Olson who was next in line.

Standing back with Sergeant Schultz and one of the other guards made Hogan feel somewhat uneasy. He had volunteered the work force and now he stood back with the Germans while the POWs did the work. As the commanding officer, however, he shouldn't be doing grunt work. Enlisted men did all the manual labor.

He watched Kinchloe as the men chattered at each other, egging each other on. It was quickly apparent that Kinch was easily the strongest of the men and he seemed to have little trouble throwing shovelfuls of snow to the edge of the road in a steady rhythm. Newkirk and Olson both struggled to keep up. Most of the men kept a steady flow of banter, insults and complaints going. Hogan watched them all slowly find their rhythm so that the group was moving at about the same pace. As each section was finished, the entire group would wade out and start again on the next. It made for very slow progress.

It didn't take long for the men to begin tiring. Every shovelful of the wet snow took more effort to heave towards the roadside. The men began to complain a little more about the extra work. But the road continued to be uncovered. It wasn't the most perfect job of road clearing but it seemed to satisfy Schultz just fine.

Hogan could see all of the men beginning to tire and heard more sniping than bantering so he called for a break as soon as the next section was cleared. Schultz agreeably backed up his orders and all of the POWs stopped and leaned on the shovels. Olson stretched his back and grumbled while LeBeau immediately joined Newkirk to chatter at him in French. The Englishman seemed to give him at least half his attention. Hogan realized that at least a few of the men were bilingual. He suddenly wondered if any of them knew enough usable German. If they'd learned enough French to communicate with LeBeau, they could learn enough German to assist in escape attempts.

The wind gusted suddenly, bringing loud complaints from the POWs who turned their heads away. Hogan put an arm up to block a splatter of snow that came loose from a tree. He saw LeBeau step slightly behind Newkirk and use him as a windblock. From the lack of response, Newkirk didn't seem to find it unusual. Olson tilted his head back and howled back at the wind defiantly, setting off laughter and mimicry from several of the other POWs. As they caught their breath and began to perk up, Hogan saw more glances to the tempting woods.

Sergeant Schultz saw it too and clapped his gloved hands together. "Achtung! Come, back to work." His shouted orders almost sounded more like pleading as he chivvied them back into the deep snow. Some of the prisoners argued back at him even as they complied.

Newkirk protested again as Schultz came back to the cleared section to watch them work. "Schultzy, 'ere now, making us work like this, it's in'uman, it is! It's 'ardly fair for us to be clearing your roads, you Germans should be working too!"

Schultz waved an arm at him irritably. "Newkirk! Just shovel the snow! Mach schnell!" For all his shouting, Schultz just didn't seem to be all that upset with the English prisoner.

With a last few shouts of 'rhubarb' at the big guard, Newkirk settled in to work again. As the crew moved to the next section, Hogan could see the snow getting deeper. Now the POWs had to break the top crust of snow before digging in. He continued to watch, once again noting which of the men tired quickly and who sniped more than he joked.

His attention was taken by LeBeau who had fallen slightly behind as the rest finished up their sections. Newkirk was the first to begin shouting at him. "Come on, you ruddy frog… faster! Raus! Schnell, Louis!" LeBeau laughed at him, and tried to go faster. Olson began chanting his name at him in time with each dig and everyone else took it up as well. Hogan found himself smiling as the Frenchman reached the edge of the road.

Everyone was stunned when LeBeau started to turn to grin, lifting his arms in the air in victory only to suddenly disappear as he slipped into the ditch full of snow. It was obviously deep enough to swallow up the short prisoner and everyone made a mad rush to help pull him back out.

Luckily, LeBeau was more embarrassed than hurt, and with a great deal of teasing and laughter, he was brushed off and patted down before everyone was reassured of his safety. Hogan gave a nervous laugh, patting LeBeau on the back as he stepped away. His eyes roamed over the group and he instantly knew someone was missing. Catching his breath sharply, he called out "Newkirk!"

"Wot?" The Englishman stepped out from behind Schultz's bulk to look at him. "I didn't do anything!"

Trying to cover quickly, Hogan gestured towards LeBeau. "I was thinking you might have a rope on you so we could tie LeBeau off so we don't lose him in another ditch."

Newkirk scoffed a little as he trudged past the officer. Outwardly, he was giving a light-hearted sounding laugh towards the other men, but as he came within a step of Hogan, he ducked his head down pretending to rub at his nose. "Pick on someone your own bloody size…" His eyes flicked up to Hogan's. "...sir." The steady gaze said quite clearly that Newkirk considered himself to be of Hogan's size.

Hogan stared him down until his eyes dropped. Newkirk continued on to pick up his dropped shovel. The Englishman had been the first to reach his friend, moving with a great deal more speed than Hogan would have guessed considering how tired he looked. Newkirk patted LeBeau as he walked past him, giving a little playful shove as LeBeau said something in French to him.

At the rate Hogan was going, instead of winning over the POWs, he was going to be knifed in the back. He sighed heavily and looked for an extra shovel. Maybe he would gain some support if he made it clear he was willing to work just as hard as the enlisted men.

"No sir." Kinch's low voice stopped him. The sergeant was standing beside him for only a moment. "Don't." He made a motion with one hand even as his voice lowered more. "Officer." Kinch walked away, taking the shovel with him. As he passed the other men, Kinch joked with them, relaxed and obviously accepted. Soon enough they were all back at the snow, breaking through and throwing great lumps into the ditches.

Hogan took a deep breath in and decided to follow Kinch's advice. The sergeant hadn't steered him wrong yet. At least it was clear that Hogan was out here with them in the cold. Maybe they would see that he was ready and willing to oversee the guards to prevent any misuse.

The rest of the day crawled by. Breaks became more frequent as the men tired. Hogan had needed to step in once when a guard's chastisement of Newkirk's quality of work led to an 'accidental' shovelful of wet snow being thrown onto his head. While Newkirk stood defiantly, willing to take whatever retaliation the guard wanted to deal out, Hogan had pushed between them. The colonel's insistence that it had been by chance and not on purpose, followed by an extremely sullen apology from Newkirk on Hogan's order soothed the guard into backing down. Schultz had called the guard away, sending another one to take up position near the Englishman.

Walking back to stand next to Schultz, Hogan noted that he kept a close eye on not only Newkirk, but also LeBeau and Olson. During one of the breaks where LeBeau had gone to huddle against Newkirk's back again, Schultz happened to stay within a few feet of them. It took three more breaks for Hogan to figure out that anytime the two paired up, Schultz got just a bit more nervous.

Figuring out the dynamics of the group was not too overly complex. It was slightly surprising to find an Englishman being such a close friend to a Frenchman, but Hogan supposed that in a stalag, circumstances were a bit twisted. Most of the prisoners would follow along when Newkirk started anything. Olson, for all that he seemed able to be friendly to everyone equally, still seemed to be slightly apart from the rest. His eyes went to the treeline as often as Newkirk's did.

And although LeBeau seemed able to rein in Newkirk, everyone showed respect towards Kinchloe. Perhaps part of it had to do with his rank as a sergeant, but maybe much of it had to do with Kinch's imposing size. The more Hogan watched them, the more he became convinced that neither theory accounted for it. The men all respected Kinchloe because he deserved respect. For his part, Kinch never bullied anyone but took full part in the teasing and joking. Newkirk seemed to try to bait him most often, but even the brash young Cockney would back off in an instant.

Hogan sighed and tugged his jacket more snugly around himself. Everything in this camp was more complex than it seemed. Guards who were more friendly than they should be. A kommandant who was easily swayed with a little praise and a nudge of manipulation. A Negro that was respected by all three of the represented countries.

He smiled to himself. And lest anyone forget, an Army Air Corp colonel who thought himself clever enough to try controlling it all.

"This is a crazy war."

* * *

end chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

A little excitement...

* * *

CHAPTER 5

By afternoon, men were beginning to stagger with exhaustion. Hogan's suggestion that the day was done was accepted by Schultz without question and the entire group was herded up by the guards and marched back down the cleared roadway. It was surprising how much road was now clear. Another day and Hogan estimated that they would fulfill the bargain with Klink. That should be ahead of the predicted blizzard.

Reaching the parked truck, the tired POWs climbed in slowly. Newkirk was the last one in, waiting to give LeBeau a boost up. "Cor blimey, Schultz. Can we go by a pub on the drive back to camp? I could use a pint and a little company."

Schultz laughed easily. "Ja, ja… I will take you to the beer garden… that would be nice, ja?" He lifted the tailgate after the guards had gotten in as well. "We'll all have a beer and some saurbraten."

"Now you're talking, Schultzy." Newkirk rubbed his hands together. "So we'll go, right?"

Schultz rolled his eyes. "Nein. We go back to camp." When Newkirk mock protested, half the POWs joined in, catcalling the big German. "Nein! Sit down and behave! You! Olson! Sit down and stop calling me names! You see, Newkirk, you cause trouble all the time. You're a troublemaker. You should be put in the cooler again so I can have peace and quiet!" Schultz humphed dramatically as Newkirk mimed being shot in the heart by his words. "Sit!"

Hogan was gestured up to the cab and settled into the middle of the seat agreeably. "You know, Schultz, I would be willing to drive."

"Nein. No driving." The same sullen guard from that morning took the wheel while Schultz took the passenger seat.

"Just offering." said Hogan.

"Ugh. We go back to camp, you can't drive, you're a prisoner. Prisoners are verboten from driving camp trucks." Schultz watched the road ahead with a fairly high level of disinterest.

"Well, what about the kommandant's staff car? That's not a camp truck!" Hogan tried again, keeping his tone light and vacant. Schultz just grunted and Hogan dropped the banter. It didn't seem to take very long to travel back to camp, the truck rumbling to a stop at the gate to be passed in with a wave. Hogan noted that none of the gate guards even bothered to look in the rear of the truck.

Once inside, the truck stopped at the barracks, and the POWs were encouraged out with lots of shouted "Raus!" from Schultz and the other guards. Even with the exhaustion, the men had enough energy to grumble at the Germans while Schultz did a headcount before heading inside. Hogan followed them in, shutting the door behind them firmly.

"You all did good work today." said Hogan. "Kinch, you're practically a snowplow all by yourself." He patted the tall sergeant who nodded and smiled. Hogan continued around the room, being careful to speak to each man and give a little praise or a kind word to everyone. Walking away from LeBeau's easy smile and soft "Merci, mon colonel..." he came to Newkirk and determined to win at least a point or two from the stubborn man. "You're a lot tougher than I thought, Newkirk." Hogan reached to put a hand on his shoulder and missed as Newkirk seemed to almost disappear from under his hand.

"Thankee." said the Englishman quietly. He edged back another few inches in what seemed to be a random stomping of his feet. "Cold in 'ere."

Hogan was given a very wary look. As an experiment, he stepped towards Newkirk and watched him move away again. This time, the corporal went around the table to the far side out of range. Hogan didn't miss how he kept one eye on him the entire time. It was like trying to pet a feral cat that distrusted his intentions. He didn't run away, but he was always just an inch too far away, or suddenly had business on the other side of a room.

Right after the realization that Newkirk absolutely did not trust him, Hogan realized something more positive. Newkirk wasn't making it obvious to anyone else. If he didn't respond to Hogan's praise, he didn't denounce it either. If he slipped away from even the most innocent of pats on the back, he didn't interfere with Hogan's interactions with the other men. He listened to every word uttered, and as far as Hogan was able to see, didn't even make a face to indicate he found the praise to sound false.

If Hogan couldn't score a point on the Englishman, he was still going to take it as a positive thing that he wasn't undermining him either.

It was that or throw his hands up in the air and give up entirely. Hogan was learning to take what victories he could. The lukewarm potato water and coffee for the evening meal didn't do much to satisfy, but as exhausted as they all were, even hunger wouldn't keep them awake long. The men seemed excessively pleased over what Hogan felt was one step above dishwater. But the watery soup was more than they'd been getting. Hogan kept quiet about why they'd been given the extra rations. Later, when he'd proven his abilities and earned their trust, that would be soon enough to inform them of the deals.

If he proved his abilities. If he earned their trust. A glance along the table showed him most of the men absorbed in the meal. One set of hooded eyes met his with suspicion. When those eyes looked away first, Hogan didn't count it as much of a victory.

* * *

The next day was another long day of snow removal. Sergeant Kinchloe had managed a few minutes with Hogan alone to clarify his stance that officers did not engage in the manual labor. Hogan knew about keeping an official distance between the officers and the enlisted men but he was feeling his way through these drastically different circumstances.

The work crew started out slower than the first day but they bent to the work a great deal more willingly than Hogan would have thought. At one of the rest breaks near noon, Hogan produced enough chocolate for all the POWs to have a section to nibble at. Everyone seemed pleased over it although Hogan noted most tucked away a portion for later. From the complaints he'd finally begun getting from the general population of prisoners, the Germans regularly took the Red Cross packages. It was one of many things Hogan intended to address quickly with the kommandant. If his scheme worked, he hoped to improve the situation for all the men.

* * *

While Hogan paced down the line chatting with Schultz, LeBeau sighed and leaned on his shovel during a short break. Deciding to take care of a 'call of nature', he slipped away into the edge of the trees.

Certainly, he should have asked a guard… but he would only be gone a moment and then back before anyone noticed he was even missing. If he asked the guards, they would fuss and then insist on being right there and when in doubt, LeBeau preferred to do something and act innocent afterward, rather than ask permission beforehand. What could possibly happen?

After he'd finished, he turned to pick his way around the drift of snow and felt his foot slip off the unseen edge to a steep ravine. He tumbled down into soft fluffy snow. Halfway into the hollow in the ground, his head met a particularly solid tree root and so he didn't feel it when he landed at the bottom, half covered in the dislodged snow that fell in after him. A few seconds later and even the faint noise of shifting snow stopped and it was quiet.

 _What could possibly happen?_

* * *

End Chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

And now things get interesting...

* * *

Chapter 6

Hogan was beginning to figure out exactly how to motivate the friendly German sergeant when there was a loud query from behind them. The same guard that shared Newkirk's ability to be sullen and unhappy about everything that happened in the war was calling Schultz and asking him something in German. It sounded urgent and he seemed upset but Hogan tried to hope that it was just the guard being grumpy.

Sergeant Schultz immediately turned a circle, obviously counting prisoners before he got a panicked look on his face and counted them not once more but three times before he raised his voice. "LeBeau! LeBeau!" His eyes searched out Newkirk and he rushed over to take him by an arm. "Where is LeBeau?"

"Blimey, Schultz, I don't know!" Newkirk squirmed loose and stepped away. "LeBeau is probably right 'ere, where else could 'e be?" Hogan began to feel the first stirring of unease when he saw Newkirk's eyes searching the surrounding woods. "Oi! LeBeau! Where'd you get to, mate?" His nervousness seemed completely genuine to Hogan.

Schultz waved at the two guards nearest to him. "Go and find him!" He walked back along the roadway, counting the heads again to make sure he was still only missing one. "Newkirk! Don't you try to escape too!"

"I'm not going anywhere!" Newkirk stepped away further, unable to keep his gaze from returning to the woods. An expression of yearning crossed his face almost too quickly to spot.

Schultz picked up on the English prisoner's intent and seized his arm quickly. "Nein! No escapes!" Ignoring Newkirk's protests of innocence, he walked him to another burly guard and shoved him over. "Hold this one." The German sergeant started towards the trees but then stopped and looked at the rest of the POWs who had all now stopped and were milling in the cleared section of road. He couldn't send the guards to hunt for the escapee. He was suddenly and painfully aware that right now, he had fewer guards than POWs and they were surrounded by woods that they could all easily be swallowed up by in just moments if they all broke and ran.

Schultz's worry quickly spread to all the guards and rifles were raised and nervous fingers were stroking all too close to triggers. Hogan could feel panic raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He stepped over to look up at Schultz. "Hey, I'm sure that LeBeau hasn't escaped, he knows better! Why don't we all calm down?" He glanced over, shaking his head slightly at the rest of the prisoners, trying to impose his will on men who still didn't even fully trust him. "Let's all just take a minute and think about this."

Schultz brought his rifle up and pointed it in the general direction of the POWs. "Nein… quiet. There will be no escapes!" He came to a decision. "Back to the truck! Everyone, quickly, back back back!"

There was only a soft grumble from the POWs, none of them particularly wanted to risk being shot by a nervous guard. Only Newkirk was loud in his protests. "Oi! We can't just go! LeBeau is out 'ere! We can't just leave 'im out 'ere in the cold. Schultz! Come on, the little git will bloody freeze out 'ere!" He was moved along by the guard's tight grip on his arm but he twisted to appeal to Schultz behind them. "You know LeBeau isn't trying to escape! Schultz! You _know_ he ain't!"

Schultz ignored him. Everyone was herded down to the truck and forced into the back, including Hogan. Newkirk tried to push past him to reach the back of the truck and Hogan had to physically catch him around the chest to tug him back. "Sit down! Do you want to get shot?"

Newkirk jerked away, thumping himself down onto the bench on the side of the truck. "We can't leave LeBeau out in the woods! Do you want 'im to bloody freeze? You're the officer, _do_ something!" His anger seemed to shift to any available target with Hogan being no different. The truck engine cranked up even as the extra guards climbed into the back to gesture the POWs further towards the front, waving rifles in a threatening way. "Stop!"

Kinch tugged Newkirk back next to him. "Quiet, they're not going to listen, Newkirk."

Hogan sat on the bench between the guards and the other POWs. "Newkirk, settle down! I ordered no escapes, what part of my orders wasn't clear to all of you?" he snapped. "LeBeau was ordered not to attempt any escape and if he's out in the snow, it's his own fault for making a foolish decision!" He regretted his harsh words instantly but he couldn't back down in front of everyone. He tried to soften his voice. "I'm sure he will be fine." Inside, he knew that the slightly built Frenchman probably wouldn't be able to withstand the below-freezing temperatures for long. Why had he tried to run away in this terrible weather anyway?

"LeBeau didn't try to escape!" Newkirk abruptly shut his mouth and turned to try to look out of the back of the truck as best as he could with the German guards in the way.

Dismissing the Englishman's objections for now, Hogan bent his attention to soothing the guards as much as possible. As he was trying to talk them around to at least keeping the rifles pointed up instead of 'at' the prisoners, Kinch leaned closer to speak quietly. "Schultz will take all the guards available out to search for LeBeau as soon as they get us back into the camp and secure."

"Thanks Kinch." Hogan tried to think of how he could salvage the whole situation. The guards were all still nervous but they'd grounded the butts of their rifles. At least no one would be shot if the truck hit a large bump.

They were back in the camp and driven to the front of the barracks. Once they'd been counted and herded inside, Hogan watched at the window as Schultz rushed as quickly as his bulk allowed to the kommandantur to report. The other inhabitants of Barracks 2 were loudly discussing the possibilities behind him.

Olson's voice rose above the rest. "Newkirk is right, LeBeau wouldn't have escaped. We all know that."

Hogan twisted to glare. "Just how do you come by that conclusion?"

Newkirk stepped in front of Olson to glare at Hogan. "Because 'e wouldn't try to escape _without me_!" The venom in his tone took Hogan aback and Newkirk continued on. "This is your fault! Wanting to curry favor with the bloody Germans. It's collaboration, it is. Making us do their work, making us prisoners go out in the ruddy snow with a great bleeding blizzard on the way! And now what? LeBeau is missing and you sit 'ere and do nothing!" He turned away and lowered his voice slightly. "I told you lot that you can't trust ruddy _officers_."

Hogan inhaled slowly, trying to control his anger. "I'm not 'doing nothing', corporal. And I'll remind you to mind your tone, I am still your commanding officer."

Newkirk ignored him, turning his back and grumbling under his breath as he made his way to his bunk. Kinch stepped closer, making the subtle attempt to divert Hogan from a battle he would not win. "Sir, can't you talk to Klink or something?"

"I am, Kinch." Hogan peered out of the window again, waiting for Schultz to emerge. "He'll be calling for me any moment."

"Why would he call for you?" Olson asked. At Hogan's sharp look, he belatedly added a contrite "...sir?" on the end.

"Because I assured him that nothing would go wrong, and that there would be no escape attempts. Once he calls me into his office, I'll get him to allow me to go out with the guards to look for LeBeau." Hogan saw Schultz come hurrying out of the offices and head directly for the barracks.

Newkirk's voice came from up in the shadowed top bunk. "Yeah, good job there. Hunting for one of your own men. Shouldn't you be 'elping 'im escape?" Sarcasm overlaid every word.

"I'm going to make sure none of the guards hurts him and that we find him and they don't just mill around and come back to get out of the snow." Hogan didn't try to correct Newkirk's tone. His own voice was making it clear that the Senior POW was displeased with the Englishman's questioning. "Didn't you say he hadn't tried to escape and that he's just lost?" Newkirk turned his face to stare. If the circumstances weren't so grave, Hogan would laugh at how his expression showed confusion trying to be covered by righteous anger. "We'll find him."

Olson was almost confused himself but he seized on the things he did understand. "You can't go out there. It's already snowing and Langenscheidt told me this morning, the storm is coming in early. You'll freeze out there just the same, officer tabs or not, sir."

Hogan stepped to the door, tugging his cap on firmly and zipping up his jacket as best he could. It wasn't much but the leather flight jacket was his best covering. "Well, if the goons can stand it, so can I. I'm not leaving LeBeau out there alone with a bunch of Germans hunting him if I can help it." Schultz burst in the door and came to an abrupt halt when he came face-to-face with the officer. "Klink want to see me, Schultz?"

"Ja, Colonel Hogan, he wishes to see you." Schultz seemed slightly confused by Hogan's foreknowledge but obviously accepted it easily. "Come, I have to take my guards out to search for the Cockroach but I am to take you to the kommandant's office first."

"Schultzie..." Newkirk was suddenly at the big guard's elbow. "You'll find LeBeau, right? You won't let 'im freeze out there?" His hands seemed to pat at the ample belly randomly, which Hogan noticed with slight curiosity. Why the man was willing to be in physical contact with one of the enemy and avoided Hogan like a plague carrier was a mystery for later.  
"Don't leave me mate out there." His eyes held Schultz's for a brief second and Schultz reached to pat one of his pockets and then smiled in a satisfied manner. "We understand each other, ja, sergeant?"

"Ja." With that short reply, Schultz stepped away and gestured for Hogan to come along. "Come, Colonel Hogan, we go to the office so I can go out into the snow to find LeBeau."

Hogan followed along beside Schultz as they crossed to the offices. He saw out of the corner of his eye as Schultz dipped one pudgy hand into his pocket and drew out two candy bars to check them and smile. Noticing Hogan watching, he shoved them back into the pocket and averted his gaze, pretending he hadn't done anything.

Had those been English bars of chocolate? They looked like the ones from the Red Cross packages and where would Schultz get those… Hogan tugged at his lip slightly. Had Newkirk given them to the guard? A bribe? A bribe to find his 'mate' perhaps? Hogan was certain that the corporal had not handed Schultz anything… his eyes narrowed slightly. Had the man slipped them into Schultz's pockets?

They were at the porch and Hogan put away the suspicions for later consideration. Right now, he needed to concentrate on Klink. He spent the first few minutes listening to the kommandant rant about how he had a no escape record and that no little Frenchman was going to ruin that.

"Of course not, kommandant..." Hogan interrupted smoothly. "Of course you know it's not an escape attempt. You're too astute for that. A lesser officer might think it would be an escape but you've got more experience and cunning than to think such a foolish thing." Hogan smiled slightly vacantly. He couldn't appear to be running a scheme. "Some kommandants would immediately think it was an escape, it's only natural, but no sir, you're on top of everything. You understand prisoners so well, you didn't think that for even one second! Mind like a steel trap! Always one step ahead of us!"

Klink paused, looking completely confused before he straightened himself, smoothing the front of his uniform unnecessarily. "Well, of course, Hogan. I wasn't thinking that at all." He looked over. "Why would I think that? Obviously." He was fishing for Hogan to clarify and Hogan obliged him.

"Of course, you knew that with your Sergeant of the Guard on duty personally that there's no way that LeBeau would have attempted to escape, by himself no less. And of course, Sergeant Schultz would have seen if LeBeau had any supplies with him, he couldn't very well hide them, could he now? He would need at the very least some blankets, food and water and a map… he certainly wouldn't be running off with nothing at all… by himself… with a storm blowing in." Hogan suddenly waved dismissively. "Why am I telling you all this? You know. You're the only kommandant with a perfect no escape record. You know your prisoners and obviously you know that LeBeau must have gotten lost and that's why you're sending out the search parties." Hogan nodded eagerly. "I wanted to come and thank you for being so prompt, not all kommandants are so concerned for the safety of their prisoners, it's no wonder that you have such a good reputation with the Red Cross. Of course, I wanted to also thank you for letting me go along to help."

Klink, fixated on the idea that someone admired him, missed Hogan slipping in his own inclusion to the search party. "Of course, of course. I do want to be sure that LeBeau is found right away." He pointed at Hogan. "You will find him immediately."

"Of course, herr kommandant! You can trust in me. With Sergeant Schultz on the job, LeBeau will be back in camp warming up in no time!" Hogan moved to the door, followed belatedly by Schultz who looked as confused as ever. "We'll just be going, don't want to waste any time!" He snapped off a sloppy salute as they exited. Hogan walked directly for the camp truck filling with extra guards. He did see some guards that he would not have preferred along. Not all of their guards were as benign as Schultz. It had not taken Hogan long to learn the handful of guards that were known to be brutal to POWs whenever they had an excuse. He resolved to stick near them to make certain they didn't mistreat LeBeau if they found him before he froze.

 _When_ they found him before he froze. Hogan corrected that thought quickly. Considering the way Newkirk had glared at him, he might need to escape himself if he didn't come back with a live Frenchman.

He settled next to Schmitt, giving the guard an absent smile while Schultz told the guards that the Senior POW was coming along on Commandant Klink's orders. His plan seemed to have gotten more complex than originally thought. But, Hogan thought with satisfaction, the more complex the plan, the more details and the more details, the more flexible he could be when things went wrong.

* * *

End Chapter 6

Kind of a small explanation of why Hogan prefers such complex plans...


	7. Chapter 7

Hogan to the rescue! Hopefully! And not dying in the snow! Hopefully!

* * *

CHAPTER 7

Hours later, he was wading through snow and wondering if it was possible for a human being to walk on completely frozen legs. The guards had a great deal of heavy woolen uniform to protect them from the cold and snow. Hogan had an officer's uniform and a leather jacket that now seemed woefully thin. The promised storm was appearing now in the form of heavier snowfall and a biting wind that cut through his uniform with icy fingers. He shook constantly now and had to spend more time talking Schultz into continuing to search rather than heading back to camp.

Langenscheidt had brought along two of the camp dogs and at first Hogan thought they'd make short work of tracking down the missing prisoner. But they didn't seem as interested in tracking as German guard dogs should.

Hogan tucked his hands under his armpits and ducked into the next gust of wind. He was beginning to wonder if he would have to face the disappointed faces of the prisoners after all.

* * *

LeBeau huddled in on himself, squinting into the falling snow as he slowly staggered through the woods. Everything looked the same. He hadn't even found the road, much less the camp or the work party.

He didn't even know how long he'd lain unconscious in the bottom of the ravine, so he had no way to know how long he'd been missing, nor even how long he had before darkness would come. He shuddered with cold. If he didn't find the camp soon, darkness would come in the way of him falling down and dying of the cold rather than it becoming nighttime. He was so very cold. His coat was thick but LeBeau was also thin and small and he had been out in the freezing wind for so long.

His feet found easier going for a few minutes before his brain kicked in and noticed. He looked down and saw a path of broken snow, messy footprints showing. He brightened a little. Someone was out here and he could follow their trail. It was certain to lead to somewhere!

He walked on. Sooner or later he would find whoever was making the trail through the snow. They could help him find shelter.

Before he froze to death that is. Newkirk would never let him hear the end of it. Falling into a ravine was so stupid. Why hadn't he told a guard? Why had he gone so far from the road to begin with?

An extra strong gust of wind made him clutch at his scarf and then tug it a bit tighter around his neck and ears. He would find help soon. He had to.

* * *

Kinch sighed as Newkirk came back off of his bunk to pace the length of the barracks for the tenth time. "They'll find him."

Newkirk twisted on his heel to confront Kinch. "It's bloody freezing out there, 'ow they gonna find LeBeau? All 'e 'as to do is fall over and they'll never find him what with that snow out there." One arm waved wildly to indicate the shuttered windows. With the number of guards out looking for the missing Frenchman, Kommandant Klink had ordered all the prisoners into the barracks. With the storm coming in, it wasn't much of an imposition.

Except in Barracks 2 where some of the inhabitants were wishing they were out in the snow rather than trapped in a too-small building with a too-angry Englishman.

"And another thing!" continued Newkirk angrily. He'd been ranting non-stop about the probability of LeBeau never making it back at all. "You saw which guards went out with Schultz. Hindelmeir and Schmitt! You think those two will find LeBeau and just gently carry him back to camp, maybe?" He directed the glare at Kinch. "Maybe they'll tuck 'im in with a nice cozy blanket too?"

"I saw them go out. Why do you think Colonel Hogan volunteered to go along?" Kinch was remaining calm only because he knew Newkirk's anger was just barely masking his fear for LeBeau.

"Why? Probably because 'e wants to look good in front of the rest of us prisoners. Bloody officers..." Newkirk paced again, visibly fuming. "All any of them care about is what things _look_ like. What _impression_ they might make on other blooming officers. Hogan is probably out there in the truck, all cozy and warm, telling Schultz they may as well just come back to the stalag and forget searching."

Kinch kept his tone reasonable. "Colonel Hogan didn't have to go out at all. If he wasn't concerned for LeBeau, he could have just stayed in camp. There's no rules that say he has to risk his own life to search for an escaped prisoner."

"There's also no bloody rules saying that POWs should work for the Germans either!" Newkirk's change of subject was abrupt. "Ordering us to collaborate with the enemy."

Olson suddenly joined in. "I notice that Hogan might have volunteered us but he sure didn't do any shoveling himself."

Newkirk scoffed to Olson. "An officer doesn't do menial labor, mate. That's for the likes of us lowly enlisted blokes."

Now Kinch let just a touch of his own annoyance show. "Officers don't do manual labor. If Colonel Hogan is shoveling snow, then he's no better than any of the rest of us."

Olson laughed at that and spoke to Newkirk. "Oh that would be terrible. An officer thought of as just one of us peons." Newkirk snorted in reply but came to sit at the table with Olson. "How could he get any proper respect if he's doing the same work as the rest of us?"

"That's exactly why he can't." Kinch finally stood up and came over, his stiff posture telling Newkirk that he was becoming fed up with them. "If we don't respect him, then the Krauts won't respect him. If the Krauts don't respect our Senior Prisoner, then they don't have to listen to any of his requests or pass on any of his demands. Do you two thickheads get it? We have an officer here who might be able to get things changed. Maybe get the Germans to get us our rights as prisoners of war! Get them to stop stealing all of the Red Cross packages and stop holding our mail from us." Kinch leaned on the table over Newkirk and reached to tilt his head to the side to show off a fading bruise on the Englishman's jaw. "Get the damned guards to stop beating up prisoners every time they mouth off."

Newkirk pulled his face away. "Maybe a proper prisoner representative could do all that… but what makes you think that this officer is going to do anything?" He couldn't meet Kinch's eyes. "What makes you think Hogan is going to do anything to 'elp the likes of us?"

"Because..." Kinch put his hand back on Newkirk's head, this time more gently. "Because, I believe him. He's going to bring LeBeau back, safe and sound and he's going to make things better."

Newkirk lowered his head slightly. His voice went soft. "Kinch… what if they don't find LeBeau? What if me mate is frozen out there in the snow already?"

Kinch patted him and sat down next to him. "Peter, they'll find LeBeau and he'll be okay. You don't have to have any faith in Colonel Hogan." He waited for Newkirk to raise his face and look at him. "You can have faith in my judgment."

At that, Newkirk let out a weak sarcastic laugh. "Kinch, why should I trust your judgment? You trust _me_!"

Olson laughed, the tension easing slightly. "He does have a point there. Anyone who would trust a Cockney bastard like Newkirk doesn't exactly have a lot of good taste in friends."

Kinch watched Newkirk's posture relax slightly. "Well, everyone is allowed a mistake once in a while."

* * *

end Chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

The ending is here! Last chapter! I hope that you enjoyed it.

* * *

CHAPTER 8

Hogan cursed softly to himself as the wind picked up. It howled it's way through the tree branches and he worried that Schultz's patience would reach an end and the guards would all go back to camp.

It startled him when Langenscheidt shouted from well away from the main search party. They made their way slowly to the young corporal who was holding one of the larger dog's leashes firmly. "Sergeant Schultz! Colonel Hogan! I found a trail!"

Hogan noted absently that he was included as one of the authority figures. He moved ahead of the others, eager to check on the corporal's find. The path he'd found seemed to have several layers of tracks even with the drifted snow beginning to fill them in a bit. "That's got to be him. No one else would be out in this storm." He smiled at Langenscheidt. "Good job! We'll find him quickly now!"

Langenscheidt beamed, very pleased with himself. "Danke, Colonel Hogan." He waited another moment until the rest of the party caught up and then headed down the path of footprints in the deepening snow. Hogan followed him, only pausing once to examine a spot that looked as if another set of footprints had intercepted the first. Something itched at the back of his mind about it for a few seconds, but he was quickly distracted by the wind picking up. He tugged his collar up more and hurried to follow the lanky young guard.

It was a bit later that Hogan saw the same odd path meeting the trail they were following in the now heavy snowfall. He stopped and looked closer. It was the same spot he'd seen before and he called to Langenscheidt to stop.

Schultz came up behind him, puffing hard with exertion. The guard was older than Hogan had first assumed and was reaching the ends of his endurance. "Was is los? Why do you stop, Colonel Hogan?"

Hogan pointed at the path and then back along it where it met. "I think we're going in circles. I saw this spot before… see?" Moving aside a few feet, he pointed to the depression back further along the path behind them. "That's where we found the path and there's dog prints right here… this is where we started following this path. We're going in circles!"

Langenscheidt thought about it and then moved further down the path. "Ja, but look." He bent slightly to point at the newest footprints. "These are freshest…" He looked confused.

Hogan mirrored his confusion but then blinked as he realized what the situation was. "We're following someone who is going in circles!"

Schultz rolled his eyes upwards. Uttering a few words in German, he looked to Hogan. "Now what are we to do? We could be out here all night!"

Hogan wrapped his arms around himself tightly as he thought. "Split up, half go back along the path where we came from and the other half continues down the way we were going. We'll trap him between the two groups, instead of just following behind him."

Schultz seemed agreeable to whatever Hogan suggested, which Hogan filed away as a useful tidbit for the future, and sent half of the guards back the way they'd just come. With a more definite goal, everyone was moving quicker on their tired feet. Hogan only hesitated briefly before continuing with Schultz's group. He would prefer to go with the other group, which did contain some of the guards that he didn't trust. But Schultz was clearly not going to let another prisoner disappear from his sight. Rather than make the sergeant order Hogan to come with him, Hogan avoided the confrontation. The less he reinforced that Schultz was an authority over him, the less the guard would think about it.

They moved on with a purpose. Hogan was eager to find LeBeau and pushed Langenscheidt to speed up despite Schultz's puffing behind them. If they sped up, it would be more likely for them to find the missing POW rather than the other group.

The wind gusted up harder than ever and Hogan bent over trying to block it from blowing directly down his jacket. They needed to find the POW before the storm descended in earnest.

Or Schultz might be taking two frozen prisoners back to the camp.

* * *

As it turned out, both of the search parties spotted LeBeau at the same time. Their luck was poor enough that the little Frenchman managed to be exactly far enough ahead, but not so far ahead to have the second backtracking party find him sooner. Hogan felt relief flood through him when he got close enough to know the slight figure covered in snow and staggering along slowly was indeed the missing Corporal LeBeau.

"LeBeau!" Hogan called out and saw him turn to face them with surprise. "We've been looking for you for hours." He caught up and put a hand on LeBeau's shoulder to make sure he was real. "Are you okay?"

LeBeau reached up to rub his head. "Oui, mon colonel, I hit my head when I fell in the snow." His eyes went to Schultz who trundled up to gaze down at him. "When I woke up, everyone was gone and I wasn't sure which direction to go and I got lost." He frowned at the guard. "You left me out here all alone!"

"I am sorry, LeBeau but you should not have wandered off!" Schultz shook a finger at him scolding him like a disobedient child. Hogan was careful not to show his amusement at the large sergeant. Instead, he checked LeBeau's head and found a sizable knot on the side. There was no blood and he decided that getting the man out of the cold would be best.

His relief was surprisingly mirrored by several of the guards. They seemed as pleased as Hogan to have found the missing POW and soon they were all headed back to the road and the truck. Langenscheidt was careful to find their path back so that they didn't make LeBeau's mistake of circling back to his own footprints and mistaking those for someone else's.

Hogan walked alongside LeBeau with one arm helping to support him. He could feel the shorter man shaking uncontrollably under his heavy coat. "Hang in there, LeBeau, we'll get you back to camp and then you can have something hot to drink and we'll warm you up next to the stove."

LeBeau laughed slightly at the encouraging words. "Merci, mon Colonel. But Klink will throw me into the cooler and it is not too much warmer than out here!"

His humor fell flat but Hogan hastened to reassure him. "I won't let him put you in the cooler. I'll think of something. Don't worry. I didn't come out here and freeze for hours just for you to end up a popsicle in the cooler." He drew LeBeau closer, patting his shoulder. "Come on, I think that's the truck up ahead."

* * *

It was the truck and they were back in camp soon after that. The storm descended fully and the snow began to fall so heavily that it was difficult to see across the compound. As darkness was falling and roll call was made, Hogan was fast talking Kommandant Klink in his office.

When he was done and Klink was shooing them out of his office with exasperation, not only had Hogan talked their kommandant out of putting LeBeau into the cooler, but he'd arranged for extra firewood and a warm supper. Somehow he'd made it completely reasonable to extend that to all of the POWs, to prevent jealousy he'd said. Klink had ended up throwing his hands up and agreeing just to get rid of the man. As long as he had all of his prisoners, he was satisfied.

Schultz ushered them into the barracks and LeBeau was greeted with a loud and enthusiastic response. He was moved to the stove and stripped of his outer garments quickly, the babble of voices rising with good cheer. Newkirk's eyes were shining as he beamed at his little friend even as he loudly chastised him over the whole situation. LeBeau argued back weakly, quickly beginning to rant at everything in French.

Hogan didn't miss how Newkirk hovered over his friend, wrapping his own blanket over LeBeau's, encouraging him to drink some cobbled together hot liquid. When the Frenchman objected to the taste, it was Newkirk fussing about it until LeBeau gave in to sip at it. Relief was evident in Newkirk's expression and actions and Hogan couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride at his part in the rescue. The extra firewood brought pleased exclamations that led to LeBeau recounting the argument between Klink and Hogan. The men eyed Hogan after that, the gazes varying from confusion to outright respect.

Hogan shivered hard, having made his way to be next to the stove as well. He pulled off his damp jacket, trying to tell himself he needed to go get his blanket from his bunk to wrap up in. Rubbing his hands over his chilled arms, he shook with cold but smiled and nodded calmly to the excited congratulations from the rest of the men. He was exhausted and cold, but at least he'd brought LeBeau back.

He felt heavy cloth wrap around him and inhaled the scent of warmed wool. Turning slightly, he was startled to find Newkirk there. The lean Englishman busied himself tugging the heavy English greatcoat into place more firmly. It was a little bit small on Hogan's bigger frame but still warm from Newkirk's body heat. Hogan almost felt dizzy with the delicious warmth around him.

"There. That'll 'ave you right, soon, sir." Newkirk's eyes met his finally and they held the gaze for a few important seconds. "Thank you, sir." His head tilted to indicate LeBeau, now fussing back at Kinch and Olson who had wrapped him snugly in blankets. "For bringing back me little mate."

"Well, I couldn't leave one of my men out there, could I?" Hogan smiled in return. "After all, it was all my fault he was out there, wasn't it?" His gentle sarcasm as he echoed Newkirk's accusation from before obviously hit properly.

Newkirk ducked his head slightly and then smiled in return. For the first time, he actually looked pleased in a genuine manner at Hogan. "Well, then there's that, a course." He quickly sobered and fussed over closing the coat around Hogan properly. "Now, I'll be wanting me coat back once you've warmed up, righto?" He moved away quickly, adding a little of the extra wood to the stove and checking on LeBeau who started complaining happily about the coffee that Newkirk had made.

Hogan was given his own cup and sipped at it before he made a face. "Oh this is terrible!" He joined in the friendly mocking of Newkirk's coffee-making abilities carefully but it seemed that his joking was accepted just as everyone else's was.

It seemed that he was finally accepted as one of them.

As Newkirk pretended to be offended by Olson's description of the coffee as paint thinner, Hogan reached out towards his shoulder, carefully, so very carefully. Hoping that it wouldn't end with Newkirk somehow being out of reach without appearing to move in that uncanny way he had.

His hand landed softly… and stayed. Without looking over, Newkirk leaned back slightly into the touch and Hogan let his arm slide over to rest across the man's thin shoulders. The tired American relaxed finally and looked around at all the faces, every last one looking to him now with the respect and trust he'd been working so hard for.

Even to the last suspicious English corporal. Hogan had them all.

* * *

End Story

I hope you liked it. Please feel free to review or PM me with comments if you like.


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